District 6 Awakening: Somewhere Over the Rainbow

Somewhere Over the Rainbow by Israel Kamakawiwo'ole

Somewhere over the rainbow

Way up high

There's a land that I heard of

Once in a lullaby…

Mechanist Dartnay (15) D6 Victor of the 97th Games

Yes. You can say that I am cold and distant. You can say I don't give a crap or that I'm just some cheating ass kid who suffocated tributes in their sleep. I did what I had to do to survive, moral or not. I wanted to live another day, my life being held onto by a thin piece of string over the Capitol's head. Do I regret what I did, yes. I regret the way I killed them, never letting them know who the controller of their fate was. I don't deserve the judgment I receive from the media or anyone else in this sorry excuse District.

The name's Mechanist Dartnay. Very typical name as you can see, very District 6 like. I won my Games when I was twelve, the youngest that year and deemed least likely to win. Well I showed them, I showed all of them. They were all so surprised, even President Echo who snickered and called the rest of the twenty-three tributes dumb asses. I was blistering, my fists clenching at my sides as she went on and on about how I humiliated her and her Games and how Head Gamemaker Ursula was going to get an earful blah, blah, blah.

The Capitol thought I was too stiff on camera, to pale complected, and too blunt with my responses. My orations during the Victory Tour were short and to the point, no emotional flare to it at all. Everyone questioned every step I took and every move I made while my feelings or thoughts were never considered by anyone. What did they expect, I was twelve?! I became a recluse, hiding in my room in the Victor's Village while I read book after book to my heart's content since finding books on anything but engineering and transportation technology is rare. I delved into illegal literature, the banned and the sacred, the ones before the Dark Days that expanded my philosophical horizons. I know the ways of the Capitol's tricks, the falsified claims toward their own policies and regulations.

All fabricated.

I read all kinds; rebel pamphlets, Capitol memoirs, past books, anything. I have, if I must say, a broad knowledge of various academic research like engineering, genetics, chemistry, etc. I however keep to myself, more so after Mercedes' death. I was not there personally but sources (the Others) claim that Victors Quinne and Mercedes had led a riot in the Capitol. My mentor was trampled to death in the process while the head of the organized event, Quinne was eventually tried and convicted of crimes against the Capitol. I remember the funeral clearly, a small local one was held and Mercedes' family, several locals, and I attended. No Capitol ceremonies were held for the two Victors who were highly praised by the flock of idiots residing in the luxurious Capitol.

Sorry to backtrack here, but I believe you're wondering about who these Others are? They are the Victors, we are the Others. We are the species of humans who fought for survival in a game where scores are set and tallies are recorded, our sole purpose in that damned place is to kill with red crimson dripping in every corner of that area. The Arena holds the very souls of the youth whose lives were ripped away from them and left for dead in an eerie place. The Games have changed us lucky few, we are the Others people of the Districts refer to us as. I don't associate much with the Others, most seeing me as a bit menacing which I don't blame. However, many look down upon Gemma and myself for we won the youngest and seem unexperienced in the mentoring aspect of our Victory. Actually most 'ship' me and her together for our contrasting personalities and, like I said before, our age. I just see her as a dumb bimbo so in no way am I interested.

"Mechanist! Breakfast!" My mother's soprano voice sounds from the kitchen downstairs. The low sound of morning rituals can be heard; the coffee maker, the news, and the clinking of dining ware can be heard from below.

"I'm coming!" I roll myself out of bed and hastily rub a hand over my face. Looking into the mirror, I see my red hair standing on end in all different directions while my powder blue eyes are crusted with sleepiness as my mother puts it. I run the shower and await for it to run hot while selecting an appropriate outfit, a white dress shirt, and black tie with black dress pants. Laying each item on the bed with each equidistant from each other.

I take a quick shower, not wanting to spend too much time under the soothing running water and tidy up for the day, packing a small suitcase of personal items. Heading down the stairs, the crisp smell of bacon and eggs welcomes me, making my stomach growl in response.

"Aren't we glad to see little Mechanist," my mother coos as she pats my head and gestures toward my chair.

"Mom…" I groan as I plop down in the seat.

"You know I'm just playing with you, honey." She leans down and kisses me on the cheek, her rosy cheeks plump and full. Her smile is fake, her eyes scream 'help'. Her only son predestined to tragedy and loss, her daughter in danger of being reaped next year.

"Hmmhmm." I chew on crispy bacon strips and let the meaty flavor fill my senses. I look to my right to see my sister whose doll-like eyes fill with tears, her head low.

"Your father and uncle are off working again. Planes at the terminals needed inspections, something like that." She continues her vigorous handiwork at the sink, piles of dishes loitering the spacious countertop. "I told them to wait to say goodbye, but-"

"It's fine. I'll call them when I get to the Capitol," mumbling lowly as I grab a small container from the shelf and place several blueberry muffins carefully inside. Striding over to my bag, I catch a glimpse at my mother who stands at the sink with her head down, her knuckles turning white as she grips onto the plate. Not wanting to make the departure more painful and awkward, I head to the door and clasp the handle with unsteady hands, looking back to see my sister sobbing softly and my mother grimacing.

"I-I'll be back in a couple weeks. I'll give you a call when I arrive."

"Stay safe," she whispers as she continues with the kitchen work, her eyes staying on me the whole time as I exit.

The morning is crisp, a gentle breeze wafting through the Victor's Village. The sidewalks are paved perfectly, the steady curve accented with wildflowers and herbs that bring life to the desolate area. Amongst the surviving mansions since the Mockingjay Rebellion, I occupy one of nearly sixty, Mercedes' being abandoned long ago. Such a waste too, when there are other citizens who live in crowded housing conditions…

District 6 is, or was at least, peaceful in my mind growing up here. The industries here are well supplied with jobs and opportunities and almost no one is left without one. We are well diverse, the large District equipped with not only natural metals but of heart, at least before my Games. The shrill voices of machinery forever echo inside my cranium, bouncing off the sides along with the images of the dead. This District has shunned me, and I too.

Walking past building after factory, my path crosses with several teenagers. All of their eyes find mine and all but one fall to the cement, his grey eyes haunting. They continue their way down the street and I duck my head finding his eyes bringing back the tribute's voices.

"GLLLGGGHHH…hhhhh…"

BOOM

"You betrayed us, Six…""

My heart begins to race as I turn my back to see they have vanished, but a stabbing gut feeling tells me otherwise. I feel the burn deep in my calf muscles as I soon begin to speed walk, the fear and worry building as the Justice Building proves to be so close, yet so far. Various people give me strange looks as I shove past everyone as if they were invisible; my focus only yards away. It is not until I notice the snickering and laughing do I finally stop to see why so many people are in the downtown area. They surround a local shop's window and crowd around it quite suspiciously as hushed whispers can be scattered amongst the crowd. I push my way through and my eyes gaze upon their mockery.

It is me, my photo shoot in the Capitol featuring a heroic stance from yours truly with glazed eyes and an unamused expression across my face is embezzled with black marker and red fluid. My blue eyes are now a devilish black and red stains the corners of my lips. My breathing begins to become labored as I look anxiously around me, hoping and praying for salvation. None comes and soon I find myself treading away from the crowd, head low and lips tight. The numbing feeling begins to spread and strikes my heart, my eyes giving way to a mist of tears. I quickly wipe my eyes as I enter the Justice Building and head towards the laboratory, my mind shutting down of all emotion and residing in the deepest, secluded place in my skull. Sitting on a metal chair, I wait for a resolution, not only for this, but for everything…

Do you know what it's like to feel alone? The dark, empty feeling that stirs deep in your belly, the absolute truth of perpetual loneliness that registers and confines itself within your very soul, your DNA. I do wish that things could have been better, that my destiny was altered for the best possible path in life. Nevertheless, life's a cold-hearted bitch.

"Mmmhhmmmm…"

A deep moan erupts from one of the metal tables in front of me and the figure springs from it as if awakening from a terrible dream. Her breathing is labored and her eyes flash open in terror and surprise, her dark brown eyes filling with anger. I snatch the vial and hastily fill the syringe with the clear fluid and run towards her, our yells ricocheting off the sides of the metal walls and shriek loudly in my eardrums. Despite her tall stature, I manage to inject the needle into her and dodge her flailing limbs as she soon relaxes and lies on the table, her eyes glazed and mouth slightly agape.

"I'm Mechanist Dartnay. You have been selected from a large pool of fallen tributes to compete in the 4th Quarter Quell." My voice is cold, calculated, monotone as I stare into her eyes.

She lets out a long sigh and reaches for my hand. "I'm Trolley. Trolley Deckmen." She hops off the table and towers above me, her build of that of an Amazon woman. "So are you like the Victor's son, or somethin'?"

My mental state falters for a second. "I'm the Victor."

"Snrk…. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

Her laughing is loud like sirens and obnoxious. She topples over and continues to laugh and slap her knee. Her face begins to turn a purplish red and she plops herself down on the metal chair, wiping away tears. Her dark brown hair is messy, the pixie cut highlighting her feminine features despite the tomboyish look.

"Seriously, though. Where's the Victor?"

I groan. "I told you already, I am…"

Her eyes widen. "Seriously? A pipsqueak like you?" She picks up my arm and drops it, her goofy smile falling a bit. "What'd you do? Kill everyone with your cuteness?"

I reply without missing a beat. "I strangled them."

"Oh." Trolley slumps in the chair, her eyes closing. "Strangled them in their sleep? Sounds a lot like you cheated… you didn't win." She smirks and opens her eyes, a mischievous smile appearing on her snarky face. "How can I take advice from a cheater? You expect me to take your cheatin' advice?"

My face burns hot, my teeth gritting. "At least I made it out alive." I turn around and leave her with a dumbfounded expression as I take the initiative to inject the other two with the relaxant to prevent further violent endeavors. I then escort Trolley to her brother whose graying hair, wife, and children finally convince her of the inevitable fate of her revival.

Walking down the corridor, I spot a cockroach skittering across the marble floor that stops right in front of me. Its antennas squirm as it merely sets itself right in front of my foot, almost asking for its death. I grin and begin to raise my foot when a young male runs through the laboratory's door and slides unbalanced as his body hits the wall to my left. He manages to balance himself just as my foot crashes down on the roach.

"NOOOOOOOOOO!"

He cries out and pushes me away, making me fall back on my backside hard. A sharp bolt of pain bolts from my tailbone and I cry out, tears springing from my eyes. I grit my teeth and strain my eyes to see the boy kneeling over the squished insect in tears as he screams.

"COLLIN! COLLIN! OH MY GOD YOU KILLED HIM!" His eyes are wild, wet with tears and anger. Damn, I'm just getting everyone angry today aren't I?

"What the-?!" He tackles me, his fists colliding with my nose and I howl. I throw punches at his abdomen until I gain the upper hand and on instinct, my hands jerk to his neck. I gasp as my fingers touch his hot, slick skin and my mind goes blank as the situation between us becomes clear: we're fighting over a dead cockroach…

"Damn it all…" I push myself off him and dust myself off, my breathing returning to normal and the adrenaline slowly disappearing. Wiping the sweat off my forehead, I watch as the boy lies on the floor helplessly as he sobs. His muffled cries cease as the remants of the cockroach grab his attention.

"Why'd you do that?! What did he ever do to you?!" He inhales sharply. "You can't just go around and kill people, okay?! They need to get home and-and… you know!" The young male's greasy brown hair falls into his wet, brown eyes. His expression is a mix of anger and wistful, his stature falling as he spots a small family at the end of the hall. He runs up to them and embraces them, now emitting cries of happiness as they enter the meeting room.

I re-enter the laboratory to see the last tribute sitting upright on the table, her blue-grey eyes staring right into me. Her hair is short, reaching to about her shoulder blades and her gown fits her loosely at her chest and hips. She opens her mouth as to say something and quickly shuts it, her eyes now closed tightly. I walk up to her and sit beside her, she flinches for a second and relaxes.

"Your tribute partners are odd…" I turn to her and give her a weak smile.

She looks down quickly. "I guess…" She fidgets. "I'm Andra."

"Mechanist." I reach my hand towards hers, but let it fall as her expression and aura changes. I follow her eyesight to a middle-aged woman at the door whose eyes match that of Andra stands and falls to the floor in astonishment.

"Mom!" Andra runs up to the woman and holds her, wrapping her small arms around her.

Wanting to leave them to their goodbye, I walk out the door and exit to the crisp, brisk day. The sun shines bright and the grey clouds give off a mist, that with the light emit a radiant rainbow off into the distance. The rich colors make Six look like a wonderland, the airplanes flying off towards the end of the rainbow.

Somewhere over the rainbow is a place where I want to be. Maybe Mercedes is over there, smiling, waving…

I miss you so much…

A/N: Here are Mechanist, Trolley, Track, and Andra. District 5 will be posted soon and after will be two chapters featuring Caleb and Mimzi. Fun poll will be up for the next chapter.

1. What did you think of Mechanist?

2. What did you think of the D6 tributes? Favorite? Least?

3. Whose POVs are you looking forward to in the Train Rides (1 per District)

Love Always, Domi